Royal Violets
by kittysophy
Summary: Her father’s hair, her mother’s eyes, her dad’s bad posture, her mom’s voice.She was a puzzle and put herself together, looked for pieces everywhere so one day she would be whole.
1. Count and spider

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Peacocks were strolling on the wide lawn, being the finishing touch of the meticulous kept garden. There was nothing to be seen of the natural wilderness, everything had its place and order. It was still very pretty and kind of peaceful, with the little pond, where fish were splashing in. The Mansion towering about this idyllic peacefulness was flooded with the red light of the sunset. Most of the windows were covered with thick, dark curtains so it was impossbiel to know what was going on inside. With a pop two people appeared out of thin air onto the cobble stoned path leading up to the house. One of them was tall, thin and had a lot of grace to her postures and movements, she was dressed into a dark robe, with a hood on her head. The girl next to her was boney and held herself up bent, as if she was in pain. Over a shabby top and a pair of jeans, with holes at the knees, she was wearing a loosely thrown on, expensive looking black robe. She had her hands wrapped tightly around the graceful woman's arm and hold onto it as if she'd drown if she let go.

"We are here, you can let go now," the woman said, her voice brusque.

The girl did as she was told to and used her, now free, hands to push her long, black hair out of her face. Her green eyes were not filled with fear, but with vigilance. She knew that this place was not the best one to be.

"Follow me," the woman hissed and went ahead to the double front door. The girl followed her. When she was walking she certainly lacked the right posture, she seemed to move like a giant spider, which wasn't aware of her eight legs. The woman lowered her hood not until she had stepped into the big entry hall. Her white-blond hair was falling onto her shoulders.

"Listen to me now, Violet." It was the first time the woman had used the girl's name and she spoke it with great respect. "I'm taking you upstairs now. Don't ask questions, don't talk or you'll regret it. Do not touch anything beside the things in your room. Don't go anywhere when nobody tells you too. If you need anything tell my son, he'll get it for you."

Violet nodded silently. She wondered what she had been dragged into. Why would she be needed at this place? What was so special about her?

Six years ago Violet had been told already that she was special, that she could do things other kids her age couldn't and that this was the reason why she'd be welcomed at a school called Beauxbatons. It had been like a dream to her. Escaping the shabby orphanage for most of the year and living in a beautiful palace where she learned how to do magic. But it had turned out to be a nightmare. Violet was awkward, she always had been, but it was more obvious when she stood on all those beautiful girls on her first day at Beauxbatons, in her second hand robes, the blue already faded so much that it was rather a grey. This day she was determined to fail socially. She never had a friend, everybody eyed her suspiciously, as if she was evil and would attack somebody from one minute to the other. She was brilliant in every class though, which made it even harder to find friends. In class she was the know-it-all and outside of the classes she was the _girl with greasy hair and the spider walk_.

When the mysterious woman had appeared this afternoon at the orphanage Violet had not hesitated for a single second to go with her. Now that she was standing in this hall, the light dim and faint cries coming out of the depth of the mansion, she wished to be back at the oprhanage again, were she knew that the cries came from the little ones, being hungry.

"Now go upstairs, second door to the left," the blond-haired woman commanded and Violet went up the stairs, trying not to make any noise on the marble stairs.

The upper hallway was long and the walls were decorated with portaits, showing people with high cheek bones and stern eyes. Violet opened the door to her room carefully, expecting nothing special. To her surprise she found herself standing in a beautiful room. The tapestry was silver, with purple ornaments on it. Her bed was huge, a deep purple bedding covering it. There was a desk, a shelf filled with plenty of books, a long, ancient looking mirror and two other doors, obviously leading in different rooms. Violet couldn't restraint her curiosity and opened the first one which revealed a walk-in closet, full of exquisite robes. Violet wondered if they were all for her. Then she peeked into the other one which was a big bathroom, flooded with the light of a hundred candles, it still smelled like soap in there and Violet could see leftover suds in the bathtub. On the other side of the bathroom was another door and Violet knew she shouldn't look in it, she should listen to what the woman had said to her, but she just couldn't help it. Just a quick glance and she'd go back into her room. On tiptoes she crossed the bathroom floor and carefully opened the door. She shrieked when she saw a half-naked boy standing in the room, with only a towel slung around his hips. Maybe the boy wouldn't have noticed her, when she had remained quiet. But as she didn't, he turned around and fixed her with his ice-blue eyes.

"What do you want?" he demanded and opened up the bathroom door completely. He was standing right in front of Violet now and she was glad that he wasn't taller than she was. Showing no sign of fear or submissiveness, something she had learned to do at the orphanage when defending her dessert, she looked the boy into his eyes and said calmly: "I live here, now. Do you have a problem with that."

The boy smirked at her and Violet didn't like the hungry look on his face. "So you are the one, huh? Well, I guess I'll be seeing you in my bathroom more often from now on." With those words he closed the door right in front of her face, leaving Violet with more and more questions behind.


	2. The Request

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A cold wind whisked through the streets of London, even though it was a rather mild summer night. Maybe only the hooded man standing on an unkempt patch of grass right in the middle of a square felt it. He stood there waiting for something, his body was full of anticipation. He kept rubbing his left arm as if it was itching him. The other hand was closed tightly around his wand. And then the thing that he waited for seemed to have happened because the man spun around and disapparated into the night.

He apparated in front of a beautiful big Mansion, standing on a small hill. He pointed his wand at the iron gate and muttered some words under his breath. The gate opened for him and the man made his way quickly up to the mansion, up a path lined with pretty red rosebushes, his robes billowing out behind him. The door was opened for him by a tiny creature with bat-like ears, it made a deep bow, but the man didn't even look down to it.

He made his way through the huge hallway with vigorous, awkward looking steps. When he had reached the end he stood in front of a big double door, with silver ornaments. Before he opened them he took a deep breath, as if inside was something horrifying waiting for him. Inside was alot of dark brown furniture and chairs with forest green cushions. In the biggest armchair sat a man, who looked like he came straight out of hell. His skin was white, chalk-white and stretched itself over his every bone. His cheekbones stood out so far that his whole face seemed to be disformed. The most horrible looking though were his eyes. Red and more slits like real human eyes. His long white fingers were stroking the head of a snake, while his eyes were fixed on the man, who had just entered the room and was now lowering his hood.

"Severus," the white-skinned man said in a strangely hissing voice.

"My Lord," Severus replied, going down to his knees in front of Lord Voldemort.

"How did the Order meeting go?"

"Fine. There are not any news, my Lord. The Order is still tapping around in the dark."

Voldemorts lips twisted slightly. "Very well indeed. So, Snape, I have yet again an order for you."

"Your request is my command," Severus said submissively.

"You know about the girl who arrived tonight?"

"Yes,Lord I do."

"My wish is that she goes to Hogwarts. Fifth grade I would say, she is much older, but she needs to be in fifth grade. And in your house Snape, that is crucial."

"Yes my Lord. I'll talk to Dumbledore about it."

"Tell him an emotional story or something that will convince him. It will not be difficult for you. I am very certain about that."

"I will do all what is in my might to please you my Lord."

"You will! You may go now Snape. You'll see the girl sooner or later, but not tonight."

"Yes my Lord." And with these words Severus left the room. As he closed the heavy doors behind him, a wash of relief came over him. Just watching a girl, just making sure she'd be in his house. Not killing anyone, not being part in another scheme to attack Harry Potter. His heart pounded ten times faster after the encounter with Voldemort than it had before. Being a double-agent strained him. Totally lost in his thoughts he walked down the hallway and bumped into somebody. Even though the light was dim, he recognized the blond hair immediatley.

"Oh Draco," Severus said absendmindetly.

"Oh, Professor Snape," Draco replied in a mocking voice. "What a suprise to see _you_ here in my house."

"Having a good day too?" Severus said sarcastically.

"Well, how would you like it to share your bathroom with a girl in shabby muggle clothes spying on you while you are half-naked?!"

Severus just rolled his eyes. Draco was the most spoiled child he had ever met. When he had been his age, he had always found his drunken father sleeping on the bathroom floor. "You'll survive Draco," Severus said.

"Whatever," Draco spat and turned around, leaving Severus alone in the big hallway. He just shook his head, hoping that the new girl would be more thankful than the Malfoy prat was.


	3. The four Malfoys

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In five years, five summers, nobody had ever seen the Malfoys like this. They were not three anymore, but four. Lucius, stiff and arrogant. Narcissa, graceful, reserved and cold. Draco, trying to imitate his parents, the arrogance from his father and his mother good posture. Now there was another girl with them at King's Cross and everybody stared at the intruder between the three blond-haired people, who fitted so harmonically together. The girl with them had long, black hair, falling into her pale face. She did not have the high cheekbones, the Malfoy family so proudly inherits throughout the generations. She did not have grey eyes, a trademark of the Black family. She did not belong to them and still she was there with them. Her trunk loaded onto the cherry-wood one with the initals _D. A. M._ Everybody looked at her and knew that she is new here and that she certainly can not belong to the Malfoys.

With everybody staring at her Violet wished she could be invisible, but she had wished for that so many times and it had never come true. She had to go through this all once more. Through the shame and agony she had gone through at Beauxbatons. This time she was preprared. This time she was stronger and no one will hurt her feelings. She is ready to built a wall around herself.

"Draco, you'll find a compartment for her," Violet heard Lucius say in his sleek voice. "Make her meet the _right_ people. You know it is crucial for her education."

"Yes, Father," Draco replied obediently. On his robes was a shiny badge with a _P_ on it.

Draco said good-bye to his parents. Stiff and paying attention that he doesn't look to emotional.

"I'll see you at Christmas, Father, Mother."

"Goodbye Son," Lucius replied, patting Draco lightly on the shoulder.

Violet did not get the chance for a farewell. As the doors of the train opened and the crowd pushed into it, Draco pressed a hand on her back and pushed her forwards. In the train he walked, till he found a compartment, which was almost full.

"There you go. Those are my _friends_ at Hogwarts. Don't say anything stupid." With those words Malfoy turned and left Violet standing alone in front of the compartment. She looked at the people inside of it, chatting animatedly. Two of the boys in there were big and their faces were scrunched up. Next to them sat a heavy girl, her face looking more like it belonged to an animal, than to a human being. The two boys and one girl in the compartment looked boringly ordinary to Violet. On of the boys wore a scarf on this hot september morning and Violet assumed he was hiding something on his neck. Taking a deep breath Violet pushed the compartment door open and stepped inside. Immediately the chattering stopped and the six people looked at her. It was the girl with the animal face who spoke first. "Who are you?" She looked up and down at Violet as if she was some sort of pest.

"I am Violet," Vioelt said, as confident as she could manage. "I'm staying with the Malfoy's." It were those little words which suddenly turned the faces of everybody looking at her. Violet could feel the respect they suddenly had for her.

"Oh yeah," one of the big boys said slowly, scrunching up his face even harder. "Draco told us, didn't he Goyle," he turned to the boy next to him.

"Yeah, yeah...there was something," Goyle said.

"Never mind," Violet said casually. "Draco just told me to sit with you."

Some of the people moved and made room for Violet. She sat down and felt as out of place as ever as she listened to the conversations about summers spent in big mansions, full of exciting things to do. About horse riding at the beach and busy parents who gave some extra money, so they'd have their kids out of the house.

It wasn't until Draco came back that anybody paid attention to her again. Behind him was a girl with hard edges to her face and shorter dark hair.

"Everything all right Violet?" Draco asked her, without the usual sneer in his voice, he didn't even sound bored like he sometimes did. The dark-haired girl behind him eyed Violet suspiciously, maybe even jealously.

Violet just nodded. Nothing was alright. Once again she had found herself in a group of people she had nothing in common with.

"Crabbe, Goyle. Patrolling the corridors, now. Let's see if we can get Potty and the Weasel King." Draco was back to his normal mix of sneer, malice and spitefulness in his voice. The two big boys got up and flanked Draco, while he strode down the corridor. It left Violet thinking that maybe Draco Malfoy was a bigger mystery to her than the question why she was here.


	4. Something happy

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The night air was warm on her skin and it reminded her so much of the warmth in the South France. The warmth she had learned to hate, when she sat in the sweltry room of hers in the orphanage. The warmth she had learned to hate, when the pretty girls in Beauxbatons would sunbath at the beach, while she sat under a tree, reading a book, secretly envying those girls, so carefree and beautiful. So unlike her. But here at Hogwarts she was safe, wasn't she?! It didn't have to be like that again, she wouldn't have to suffer under the warmth again.

The boy with the scarf approached to her. He had told her his name, but she had forgotten it, because he was a pretentious douchebag. She had forgotten it, because he ran his finger through his hair in a way that made her sick. He played Quidditch and how he bragged about it made her even more sick. "Taking a carriage with us?" he asked her and this very moment Violet would have loved to shout the truth in his face. The truth about his disgusting behavior, how she couldn't stand people like him. But she doesn't, because there is this little speck of hope in her that this time around school won't be a nightmare for her. That this time everything will be better and that she will fight for it being better than last time. And so Violet nods and gets into a carriage with him and a bunch of other students. And when the carriages get moving, she looks up at the dark silhouette of Hogwarts castle, its many windows illuminated and glistening like stars on the night sky, she desperately hopes that she will have the strength to make a better start.

In the Great Hall, which was illuminated by over a thousands of candles floating in midair, a hundred of students were already sitting at the tables, chattering and being so cheerful about seeing each other that Violet instantly wanted to be part of them. Part of something happy. But Draco pushed Violet away from the cheerful crowd, to the only table where nobody was shouting, smiling, hugging one another.

"You are going to be with us. In our house, Slytherin, got it?!" Draco said without leaving room for protest. When he was talking to her like that he reminded her of his mother. Violet sat down on the table, where everybody was looking grim, serious or as if they had some evil plan forming in their mind. With this crowd a better start would be harder than Violet had thought mere minutes ago. "So, Father has arranged for you to be in Slytherin, which is an honor. You'll need to learn a lot and I'll tell you everything you need to know over the next couple of days."

On Draco's other side the hard-edged girl was nudging him. "Pansy," he said annoyed. "Just leave me alone, will you. I'm trying to have a conversation." Pansy left him alone quickly, trying hard to hide her disappointment that he wasn't paying attention to her. She did a good job. Maybe it was only Violet sensing Pansy's emotions. But why would Violet care, it was Pansy's and Draco's thing to deal with, not hers.

Violet started staring at all the students, coming into the hall. When a small group, with two red-haired students entered the hall, Violet noticed a lot of students putting their heads together, whispering about something. Even Draco smirked to his fellow friends Crabbe and Goyle, as if they were amused about an inside joke. Violet's eyes followed the group. They sat down on one of the tables, two boys with black hair, the one round faced, the other's hair messy and there was something on his forehead Violet couldn't quite see. "Who are you staring at?" Draco asked suddenly. "Nothing," Violet replied absentmindedly, still staring at the boy with the messy, jet-black hair. She was fascinated by his appearance and she couldn't quite tell why. She just had to stare at him, like she sometimes would stare in the mirror because she was fascinated that she was a living being on this planet.

The dinner and the speeches afterwards and everything drifted away, in Violet's mind was just the boy and when she went to bed that night, down in the dungeons, he wove in and out of her dreams. In her dreams she stared into the mirror and instead of seeing herself, she saw him. And when she woke up she had the feeling her head would burst if she couldn't find out why this boy looked so familiar and fascinating to her.


	5. Draught of Peace

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They walk through the castle corridors looking quite awkward. He has this perfect posture, his spine straight like a stick, but there is a certain carelessness in the way he walks. She tries to look not too weird next to him. Of course she would always look weird next to someone who has a grace, but she is doing her best in holding her back straight and not look like an overgrown spider. He walks as if he owns the castle, so secure and confident and she feels lost in the darkness of the corridors and dungeons, not knowing where she needs to go. In classes he advises her to sit next to her and Pansy is throwing angry looks at her all morning long. Violet is not keen to fight, but she sums up everything she has learned about dueling during their Charms lessons, just in case she'd need it tonight in the girl's dormitory.

Violet doesn't trust any Slytherin, except Draco that is and she doesn't know why she has the strong feeling that he wouldn't do harm to her. He tells her everything about Hogwarts and especially about Slytherin with great enthusiasm and Violet gets the feeling that Draco likes the school more than he would ever admit. But soon their conversations drift to a tight spot. "Why did Slytherin not want any muggle-borns in his house?" Violet wants to know and Draco inhales deeply before answering. "Because they are dirty, Violet. They don't deserve to be taught magic." And Violet doesn't protest, she knows that it doesn't make sense to argue with Draco. She lets him believe what she wants, not particularly because she is a tolerant person. She does it because she likes Draco, because she thinks that he is somewhat decent, beneath his arrogance and pretentiousness. And she likes to have someone that comes at least pretty close to be a friend.

It's only when their potion lesson starts that Violet is reminded of the dream she had about the boy last night, because their he stands again, in the queue in front of the class, with a red-haired boy and a girl with a heavy looking bookbag. "Who are those three there?" Violet whispers in Draco's ear and she can feel him shiver at her words. His eyes follow Violet's hand and his lips form to a smirk immediately as he puts his eyes upon the three students. "Oh, yeah. I could tell you tons of things about them. Potter, Weasley and Granger. Trust me, those are not people you want to hang out with." Violet nodded at his words, but she wondered what the reason was. The three of them were probably muggle-born and that was the reason Draco suggested them as unworthy to talk to. Violet on the other hand felt so drawn to the boy with the black hair, that she almost waved to him or gave him a small smile, but she didn't dare, not in front of Draco. Before she could interrogate Draco further about the black-haired boy the dungeon door creaked open and the students filed into the classroom. Draco held Violet's sleeve, as he had done all day whenever they entered a classroom. And, as she had done all morning, she sits down next to him in the classroom, trying hard to ignore the irritating stares from Pansy.

"_Settle down,"_ a cold voice from the front said and Violet turned around, looking where the voice was coming from and something in her stomach plunged when she saw her potions teacher. He had a big, hooked nose, dark eyes, narrow lips and his black, greasy hair fell into his face. His skin was as sallow and pale as Violet's was. "What's the professor's name again?" Violet asked Draco quietly. "Snape. Better remember that, after all he is Head of our house." Violet nodded silently.

Class was almost over and the whole dungeon was filled with thick vapors. From Violet's cauldron came a shimmering mist of silver vapor. The Draught of Peace was a piece of cake for her. She had done it many times before, she had perfected the instructions herself in her old potions book and even now she didn't follow the instructions Professor Snape had written on the blackboard. He didn't realize it would be better to stir it one time less, when the potion was still charcoal grey and heat it up for exactly five seconds before adding the last ingredient. Violet turned to Draco, his potion wasn't perfect but pretty good for a fifth year.

Professor Snape made his way through the rows now, looking into the cauldrons with a very disapproving grimace on his face. When he swept over to Violet, he looked at her first, before staring down into her cauldron. And Violet feels this plunge in the stomach again. She does not know where it comes from, it's just there and she can not explain it. "Violet Deermer, I suppose," Snape said softly. "Our new student. I have heard quite a lot about you Deermer, quite a lot." His eyes lingered upon her and when they met hers, he seemed to shriek inside, Violet could feel him doing it. He stood in front of her, looking puzzled, almost worn out, maybe as if he had seen a the ghost of a person he had thought dead for good. He put his mask back on faster than Violet had expected him too. Looking down into her cauldron he just said "Excellent!" and then left, ready to take his grudge out on less talented students.


	6. Standing in the Dark

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The corridors were empty and the only light was that of the moon. It must've been around midnight already. Except from the ghosts floating through the dark corridors, there was only one person out of bed and she knew she'd be in trouble if somebody found out. The girl was hiding behind one of the armors and hoped instantly that none of the teachers would find her there. All night she had tried to come up with a plausible explanation, but everything had sounded ridiculous. When somebody would find her there, kneeling on the cold ground she just had to take the punishment. It was too important to be here and wait she did not have any other chance.

Suddenly the sound of footsteps came out of the dark, it was somebody running. Violet peeked from behind the armor and she could hardly believe how lucky she was that it was really him. It really was. The silhouette was definitely his, tall, scrawny, messy hair sticking up from his head. It looked messier than usual.

Violet jumped out from behind the armor, but right that moment the boy who had been running down the corridor bumped right into her.

"Argh! What was that about?" he asked, getting up from Violet, who the boy had thrown flat to the ground.

"I'm so sorry," Violet said quickly, getting up from the ground too. Her back ached badly from falling onto the hard ground and she cursed herself for being so clumsy, so thoughtless about everything she did in life. It always seemed to get her into trouble.

"Well, next time try not to do anything you are sorry for, okay." The boy turned away and started walking down the corridor, holding his right hip as if it was hurting him.

"Hey, Potter, wait!" Violet yelled desperately. It was her only chance and she needed to grab it. She needed to talk to him right _now._

"Are you mad?" Harry hissed at her, clutching his right hand. "What do you think would a teacher do if they'd found us? It's way after midnight and we are not supposed to stand around in corridors at those times, if you haven't heard of that rule yet," he paused for a second and then continued in a quiet whisper, which even though it was very quiet, didn't lack the spite. "Well, maybe you really haven't, taking your all time company in regard. So, leave me alone now, I have enough detention already."

Violet knew it had been wrong to yell. Absolutely wrong, but she was so desperate to ask him something. "Alright, I'm sorry. I just need to know something and you are the only one-," Violet whispered but was interrupted by a silky voice, followed by a bright jet of light.

"Ah, who do we have here? Let's see. Potter, of course! And who else?" The light move onto Violet and she had to squint her eyes at its brightness. "Miss Deermer, getting into trouble already, are we?" Violet had known all the time that Snape was not a teacher to cross and it was the worst thing that could possibly happen to her that he found her here, now, with Harry standing in a dark corridor. But she stood straight and hid the trembling she felt inside. "Well, since I'm in a _good_ mood tonight I won't take any house points. Detention for both of you, Saturday night in my office. I'll find something fun to do for the two of you." With those words Snape left and Violet stood there next to Harry and now was the last possibility for tonight to ask him, but she just couldn't after this incident. Getting him into trouble wasn't the cleverest thing to do.

"Great. Good job Deermer. Thanks for nothing," Harry spat at her and walked away. And Violet _cursed_ herself for being so stupid, for not thinking it through. As she stood there now, the cold of the night wrapping her up, she knew it had been the most _stupid_ idea to wait for him in a corridor in the middle of the night. It was so incredibly stupid that Violet wondered where she had left her brain the moment she decided to do it.


	7. Detention

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The entire week Violet could think about nothing else but the detention she would have with Harry on Saturday. She would ask him then, she would definitely ask him. The thought of the conversation she would be having with him was dominating her brain all day long. From time to time Draco would ask what she was thinking about, but she would just say _nothing_ or _the potions essay_. It was getting really annoying having Draco on her heels all day behaving like a lapdog. She had enjoyed it for the first couple of days. She had kind of enjoyed the jealous glances from the other Slytherin girls, the respect from the Slytherin boys, but all of this had gone stale over the time. She had also found out that Draco wasn't nice to anybody else but her. He wasn't exactly what she would call a bully, she knew enough about bullying, but he was someone who did not care about other people feelings. He was someone who would have called her names in her old school and that made Violet feel uneasy around him. What if his façade would crumble one day and he would treat her like she was worthless vermin, like he treated anybody else?!

After dinner on Saturday Violet made her way down to the dungeons. She did not exactly know where Professor Snape's office was, but she was pretty sure she'd be able to find it. She had to admit that it was more difficult to find the ways through Hogwarts than it had been in Beauxbatons. But Violet was the kind of girl who always found her way, no matter where she needed to go or what she needed to do. So she wandered through the deserted corridors, till she finally found the door to Professor Snape's office. Carefully she knocked, hoping that Harry would be there already. But she only found Professor Snape, sitting behind his desk reading in a book. His greasy black hair fell like a curtain in front of his face.

"Professor Snape, sir?" Violet said, carefully stepping into the dimly lit room.

"What?" Snape snapped, looking up from his book. Violet could make out the title now. In gold letters on a red background was written _"Ancient Asian Potions and their secrets". _Violet chuckled a little bit inside, it was such a cliché that a Potions Professor would sit in his study on a Saturday night and read a book about potions. But then, Violet thought that she had always done the same at Beauxbatons, because nobody would ever talk to her. The books had somehow become her friends at that time.

"Miss Deermer. I appreciate that you are on time, of course I would not expect anything else from a student in my house," Snape said silkily and stood up. He got a big bowl out and put it on a simple wood table which stood at one end of the room.

"You are going to sort out sophorous beans tonight. You have to look precisely to see if they are spoiled or not."

"Yes, sir."

"Alright then, get to work!" Snape got back on his chair again and continued reading his book. Just five minutes later the door opened again. Violet spun around and it was exactly the person she had hoped to see.

"Potter. Could you finally make it, yes?!" Snape asked sarcastically.

"I'm sorry," Harry grumbled.

"You're sorry what?" Snape got up from his chair now, not looking pleased about Harry's behavior.

"I'm sorry, _sir,_" he said through clenched teeth.

"Well, well. Since you are late tonight you have the pleasant job of taking the innards out of these dead mice there." Snape pointed to a bowl right next to Violet, with a malicious grin on his face. He seemed utterly satisfied to give Harry such a disgusting task.

Harry didn't say anything but Violet could feel his temper rising. He looked so angry, that Violet was almost afraid he would hex her as soon as the two of them left this room. For a while they worked silently, while Snape was still reading his book. But after about half an hour he left and Violet finally saw her chance.

"Harry," she said, hoping he wouldn't shout at her for trying to talk to him.

"What's the matter?" he asked shortly.

"When I was in that corridor the other night, I was waiting for you."

"And why would you do that? Oh wait, I forgot, you are one of Malfoy's little minions."

"No I'm not!" Violet said indignant. "I came to you by myself. I kind of need your help."

Harry didn't reply, but just ripped out the mice innards with more force.

"I need to know about Lord Voldemort!" Violet said, with a hint of desperation in her voice.

Harry stopped and put down his knife. "What?" he asked blankly.

"Listen Harry, I read a little about you, how you survived his attempted murder. And that you supposedly saw him coming back. I need to know what he is like, how one can protect themselves from him."

"Why would you want to know that?" Harry asked, looking right into Violet's eyes. She could see Harry's hands tremble a little.

"Because I think I might be a part in his plans or whatever. I know that the Malfoy's did not take me into their home because they are good people. Harry, you are the _only_ one who can help me."

Harry sighed, but then nodded slowly. "Meet me in the library tomorrow afternoon, alright? But I'm telling you, if this is some sort of trap…"

"It is not," Violet said quickly and she wanted to say so much more, but in that moment Snape came back in, looking at them suspiciously.


	8. Bravery

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The bare trees were covered with a thin layer of ice, so that they looked like shiny, sparkly statues. They got almost lost in the brilliantly white landscape. But Violet could see them. She saw every single tree when she looked out of the train window. She couldn't help but clamber her eyes on them, hoping the innocence of a winter tree would somehow help her to deal with the situation lying ahead of her. Draco sat opposite her, reading the _Daily Prophet_. From time to time he would take a quick glance at her, as if he expected her to cry or have any other emotional outburst. Violet did not give him the satisfaction to show her true feelings. Her face was a calm mask, she had used so many times before, sometimes hoping this calm mask would help her to be also calm inside, but it had never.

When the train entered King's Cross Station Violet felt her legs going numb and a certain nausea rising up in her. She had rarely been afraid of something. She had gone through so many little horrors and uncomfortable situations that she was always convinced she could manage anything. But now, as she saw Narcissa standing on the platform, dressed in a heavy cloak, her face sterner than Violet had ever seen it, she was _afraid_. Afraid of what would happen to her when she had to stand in front of _him_. Maybe she would even pass out by the mere sight of him.

Nobody spoke a single word. Not on the way to the Malfoy Manor. Not at dinner time. Violet felt uneasy and did not a single thing. She could feel her knees tremble. When Draco ate a piece of chocolate cake for dessert, a bunch of people streamed into the kitchen. Some of them stayed and took a seat at the table. Others just greeted Lucius and then made their way back into the hall. It was exactly eight o' clock when Lucius told his wife to bring Violet to see_ him._ Narcissa nodded obediently and grabbed Violet's arm, bringing her to the door at the very end of the long hallway. But before she opened it she looked into Violet's eyes and Violet was sure she could see some warmth in the grey eyes staring at her now. Then Narcissa's long fingers stroked carefully over Violet's black hair. "Good luck." Violet could hear Narcissa whisper and then she was left alone.

Violet could not bring herself to open the door. It was horrible not to know what was waiting for her inside. Well, essentially she knew. She knew how Voldemort looked like, Harry had described him to her and just the thought of his description made Violet feel sick. _Be brave!_ She told herself, but there was not much use to it. She could not be brave in that way. She was able to show courage, defend the weaker and younger ones at the orphanage; she had been able to do that. But bravery and courage were, sadly, not the same. About fifteen minutes must have been passed and Violet still stood in front of the door and she _could not_ open it. Something stirred inside and she could hear low voices speaking and then the door opened up by itself.

"Come in!" A strangely hissing voice commanded her and Violet knew who this voice belonged too. The room was dimly light, but Violet saw him the first second she stepped inside. His skin was so white that it was not a problem to find him in the half-light. He sat in a gigantic armchair, next to him a woman with wild, black hair, looking slightly worried. Violet stopped about a foot in front of the armchair. She was afraid. She had never been that afraid before and still there was a certain curiosity in her that wanted to look this utterly evil person in his eyes.

"So, this is she? Bellatrix?" Voldemort asked without taking his eyes of Violet.

"I suppose so…" The woman called Bellatrix answered, sounding confused and terrified. She barely looked at Violet, but stared at her fingers almost all the time.

"You suppose so. I thought you were sure." Voldemort sounded angry now. His hissing voice had gotten an aggressive undertone.

"I told you everything I knew about her my Lord," Bellatrix replied deviantly.

"Lucky for you, Bellatrix that we have a method to see if she is _my child_."

Hot and cold shivers went down Violet's spine. _His child?_ Why in the world would she be the child of an evil wizard? It could not be, it just could not be true!

Voldemort said some strange hissing words, Violet could not understand, but in an instant a huge snake appeared at Voldemort's side.

"Talk to the snake!" Voldemort commanded.

"I c-can't," Violet stammered, still shocked that Voldemort thought she was his daughter. And why in the world would he want her to talk to a snake? She'd rather stupefy it, so it would not hurt her.

"Try then." In Voldemort's voice was no sign of warmth or mercy. She had to try to talk to this snake.

"Hello, snake," Violet said, but the words came out of her mouth as always.

"Not a Parselmouth," Voldemort said thoughtfully. "This means," he got up from his armchair. "that this girl," he drew his wand. "is not my daughter, Bellatrix." He raised his wand and from one second to the other, Bellatrix was on the floor, trembling and screaming as if she was in pain.

Everybody in the house could hear the screaming and everybody was used to it. Only one person cared, because she knew that this could only mean that Voldemort was angry. And if Voldemort was angry it meant that he found that Violet was _not_ his daughter. He would probably kill her, Narcissa was certain about that. And so she did something very desperate and probably stupid, but in that moment it seemed to be the only way to save her sister's life and Violet's too. Somehow Narcissa had grown so fond of the girl, which was so lost in this world, where she had been dragged into.

So Narcissa drew her wand, murmured some spells under her breath and all the windows of the beautiful mansion burst and a phoenix out of flames rushed through the house. Suddenly everybody ran around and tried to get out. Several men had their wands at the ready, expecting the Order of the Phoenix to be coming. Narcissa threw the door in front of her open and Voldemort was not there anymore. She grabbed Violet's arm and helped her to flee out of the house.


	9. Flaming Phoenix

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The moment all the windows in the Malfoy mansion shattered was the moment Violet thought she'd die. Die right there in front of Voldemort or even finished off by him. It was a very strange feeling, not at all scary like she had thought. It was more a regret to it, a regret for everything she had not done in her life and everything she would never be able to do. If she died right there in that very moment she would have _never_ kissed a boy, which was a pity for a seventeen-year old girl. She would have never known what true friendship meant. She would have never been able to find out who her true parents were. All those thoughts of undone things rushed through her mind when she kneeled to the ground and shielded her face from the thousand pieces of glass raining upon her. And then, like a guardian angel, someone rushed into the room and dragged her out of it. Out of the room, where she nearly had died in, out of the house, right onto the snow-covered lawn. And she lived. She could feel the snow on her face, as she had collapsed onto the ground, and nothing had ever felt better. She could hear her heart beat a million times faster than it usually did and it was the happiest sound she had ever heard. The house behind her was going up in flames and she could see nobody in there anymore. The only one running out of the house was Draco, looking confused and scared. Emotions Violet had never before seen in his face. He ran right towards her and she almost thought he'd fall into her arms, but he hugged the person right beside her. Violet turned around and saw Narcissa, holding her son, as if she would drown without him.

"What was that mum?" Draco whimpered and his voice sounded nothing at all like his usual arrogant drawl. It was so much more vulnerable and real that Violet decided she like his voice like that way better.

Narcissa stroked her son's blond hair, comforting him and replying in a very motherly way: "It is war Draco, it is war." And then she did something Violet had never thought Narcissa would do. It was maybe even more incredible than that she had rescued Violet. She let go off Draco and hugged Violet ever so tightly and motherly. It brought Violet to the verge of tears and when Narcissa stroked Violet's hair just like she had done it with Draco's Violet sobbed unrestraint into Narcissa's shoulder.

This emotional scene was so abruptly interrupted, that the three standing there in the cold, looked up alarmed. A hooded figure had appeared in front of them and looked at the disaster of a house.

"What happened?" he asked shortly.

Narcissa shook her head and let go off Violet. "I don't know Severus. But you have to take Violet with you, will you?" Narcissa asked desperately.

"Of course," Snape nodded, understanding exactly what Narcissa needed him to do. He grabbed Violet's arm and before he disapparated into the night with her, he gave her an advise, his voice the usual sneer: "Better put out that fire Narcissa." And with those words he left, taking Violet with him.

Grimmauld Place in London looked as dull and sad as it had all the time. Not even the soft, silver-blue light of the moon could make it prettier. Severus Snape did not mind the place being ugly, he did not even mind the old house of the Black's, which was so dark and depressing that one could barely feel at home there. No, Severus Snape did not mind any of those things. However, he could not stand going there. He knew they were talking about him, not trusting him, saw him as double-faced liar. It bothered him. It bothered him not because the members of the Order were just talking behind his back, he had gotten used to that since he attended Hogwarts. It bothered him, because he was putting his life at risk, he was doing everything he could to protect them all and protect their hero and they _still_ talked behind his back.

Tonight being at Grimmauld Place 12 was particularly hard. Snape had messed up tonight. He was supposed to be much earlier at the Malfoy Manor, much, much earlier. Dumbledore had suspected that Violet was not the Voldemort's child and that he would kill her if he found out. Snape was supposed to save her, but he had failed. If Narcissa had not been there, the child would have been dead and Snape would have had to add another name to the list of people he could not save from death. Clutching Violet's wrist he took her inside the house. The girl did not say a single word. Was she devastated that he had taken her away from Narcissa? From what he had seen, Narcissa had been so lovingly to the girl and he wondered why.

"Who is that?" A high pitched, agitated voice asked. Snape rolled his eyes, Mrs. Weasley was such an annoying woman.

"It is me. Severus Snape." He said loudly and opened the kitchen door. In the flickering light of the fireplace sat Sirius, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Lupin and, of course, Dumbledore.

"You got her?" Mrs. Weasley asked worried, her eyes frantically searching for the girl.

"Yes I did," Snape answered, not knowing why they would question him. Even if he was a little bit late, he would have never come empty-handed without a good explanation. He pushed Violet into the room, so everybody could see her. Dumbledore laid his twinkling, blue eyes on her and then said slowly: "Please, leave me alone with the girl and Snape, will you."

He did not have to say it twice. Everybody who was before sitting at the large wooden table, left instantly at Dumbeldore's words.


	10. Origins

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Violet shivered. She shivered inside, because she was afraid. She had to admit, she was more afraid than she had been standing in front of Voldemort, because she kind of knew what to expect from him. Now she did not know who was sitting in front of her. Well, she had heard of Dumbledore, of course, but what would he say to her, what would he be like? Having Snape sitting next to her did not make the whole situation better.

"So," Dumbledore began, cuffing the sleeves of his midnight blue robes up. "I'm glad to see you are all well, Violet."

This man had nerves, Violet thought. Well, she was well, yes, but she almost died. What was good about that? Something about Dumbledore annoyed her the minute he spoke his first words to her. Maybe it was the soft, gentle voice he spoke in, it did not seem authentic. Or it was the weird twinkling in his eyes that seemed to say: _I already know you." _

"I can imagine that today was one of the hardest and most exhausting days in your life, Violet, but I'm afraid I have to push you still a little further."

Violet groaned. All she wanted to do know was go to sleep and not listen to this annoyingly calming voice of Dumbledore. Weirdly enough, she really wanted to be in her bed at Malfoy manor, having breakfast with Narcissa and Draco the next morning and at least for some hours imagine they'd be her true family.

"What is it then?" Violet asked roughly, letting Dumbledore think what he wanted about her, she did not have the strength to impress an adult anymore.

"I have to tell you who your true parents are."

Suddenly Violet was so wide awake, agitated and there was suddenly no place she'd rather be and no person she'd rather talk to. Her parents, her real parents. She'd finally be able to find out where she came from, who she truly was.

"Tell me, Professor Dumbledore. Sir, please tell me!" Violet pleaded. She would not be able to stand one more minute sitting at a table with the person who knew who her parents were without having him tell her.

"Your mother my dear, I am afraid to say, is dead. She died fourteen years ago." Dumbledore had a sad look on his face now. His eyes showed so much empathy.

"But my dad, what about him?" Violet asked, voice shaking. She could feel Snape next to her clench, as if he did not want to be part of this conversation. She did not dare to look into his eyes, but was pretty sure he did not look pleased.

Dumbledore took a deep breath and his voice sounded a little hollow when he said: "He is sitting right next to you."

At first Violet could not process what she had just heard. The only person sitting next to her was Snape. But he could not be her father, it just could not be. He was just her potions teacher, he was Professor Snape, strict and unforgiving, hating students who were unable to succeed in his classes,he could not be her _father._ Trembling she turned her head around, but Snape was not looking at her. He stared at the window, right at the reflection of him and Violet.

"Professor Snape," Violet said softly. She just wanted him to turn around, look into her eyes, so she could see if he really wanted to be her father or if she was a disappointment to him.

Slowly Snape turned his head around. It almost seemed to pain him to look at her. "Call me Severus, will you," he said, nearly choking on the tears he tried to swallow.

"Did you know?" Violet asked, still trying to catch his dark eyes. She _wanted_ to look into them.

Snape shook his head and Violet appreciated every second of this moment they shared together. She knew he was letting his mask down right here in front of her.

"B- but why did she not want me, Pro- Severus, do you know why she left me at the orphanage? I know that I came there as a baby, they told me. Why did she do that to me?" Violet finally could catch Snape's eyes and they were filled with tears, exactly like hers and Violet just could not hold back anymore and cried so desperately. She had rarely cried in her life and never had she cried about her parents abandoning her into an orphanage. But now it was all different, now was the time to mourn about it. Between Violet's sobs Dumbledore said something that Violet could not understand. But then she felt arms hugging her, the second hug she got today and she knew it was her father. He tried, he really tried to put some love in this hug, but he just couldn't. It was rather stiff and awkward. Violet did not mind, she wasn't alone anymore and that was all what mattered.

"Got to bed now, Violet," Professor Dumbledore said, gently grasping her shoulders. "Tomorrow you can talk to Severus. You have so much time with him left."

Violet got up, her legs shaking and she did not know if she was dreaming or not, when she walked up the stairs and fell into her bed.

Despite the eventful day that lay behind her Violet fell into a deep, dreamless sleep and awoke when the bright light, reflected by the snow, crept in her room.


	11. Green Fire

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It ached. Something inside of her ached, so badly that she could not remain in bed. The pain was somewhere in her chest, it felt like her had was ripped into millions of pieces. She tumbled down the stairs, still in her nightgown, hoping desperately that the pain would go away. She felt tears streaming down her face, but she did not remember starting to cry. Her legs felt numb when she finally reached the kitchen and she saw everything blurred through the veil of tears. It smelled of eggs and bacon and there were voices, loud chattering and distinct clanking of dishes.

"Violet, dear, is everything alright?" A concerned, but very nice voice asked her. Probably the plump, motherly looking woman, Mrs. Weasley, Violet suddenly remembered her name.

"No, where is Professor Dumbledore," Violet managed to stammer. She sounded whiney and she hated her voice sounding like that. She was _not_ a whiner, she refused to be one. So, she had just figured out she had a father, who was alive, big deal. She should get a grip on herself.

"Oh, he is not here yet. But Professor Snape wanted to come and pick you up. He said he needed he talk to you," Mrs. Weasley sounded quite irritated about the fact that Snape actually wanted to _talk_ to one of his students. "He said he'd be here around ten. So, you better get dressed and have a little breakfast."

Violet turned around, shaking and trembling, almost unable to get up the stairs again. On her back were the eyes of everyone who had been sitting in the kitchen and for Violet every single stare or even a little glance was like a stab with a dagger. She wondered if they knew, did they knew about her being Snape's daughter and if they did, what was so wrong with it? But Violet knew the answer to _that_ question already. Snape was a malicious, weird and miserable, lonely man and nobody really seemed to like him. It was more that they endured him the same Violet had always only been endured.

Ten o' clock, sharp green flames flared up in the fireplace and Severus Snape stepped out of them. He was not his usual self today. Of course he was still wearing his black robes, he always wore. He was still sallow, still hook-nosed and had his usual sour, disapproving-of-everything grimace on his face. Who knew him though could see something in his eyes that had not been there for a very long time, it was hope and passion and longing, it was right there in the darkness of his eyes, but invisible to everybody at Grimmauld Place.

"Where is she?" he asked brusquely. Right that moment Violet stepped into the kitchen. Not like an hour ago, not weak, in pain and full of tears. Not in her nightgown, but still full of fear and doubt and questions.

"Good morning Miss Deermer. Are you coming?" Snape asked stiffly, pointing at the fireplace. Somehow Violet was relieved that Snape seem as incapable in handling this situation as she was.

"Yes, sir," she answered, taking some floo-powder into her hand. "Where to?"

"Spinner's End," Snape replied, very quietly and seemingly uncomfortable. Violet stepped into the fireplace, dropped the floo-powder and said, very loud and clear, _Spinner's End_. The kitchen of Grimmauld Place, the people sitting on the long, wooden table, including Harry dissolved in a green whirl of fire.

The fireplace she came to a halt in was in a small house. Very small and dark and somehow so very sad. A few seconds after she arrived, Snape stepped out of the fireplace too. Violet looked at him and could feel how desperate and confused he was. She sensed his inability of being able to start a conversation with her. So she had to do the adult thing and just start to talk.

"So, Severus, you want to talk to me?" Violet asked softly.

Snape simply nodded and pointed to the sofa and some old armchairs. "Have a seat," he sat, his voice scratchy and insecure.

Violet sat down on the sofa, taking the room she was in. It was easy to recognize that it belonged to Snape. Every inch of wall was covered with shelves of books and Violet wondered instantly if she inherited her love for books from him. The idea made her stomach flutter.

"Is it true then? I am your daughter, ain't I?" Violet eyes lit up when she asked that question. It was almost like a green fire was flaring up inside of her, burning in her, just waiting to get out. Snape knew that fire, he knew it perfectly well. He had seen exactly that fire so many times, over and over, but in his mind it was inseparably connected with red hair, hot summers spend in the woods and a feeling he had never been able to describe, most likely it was love, but just so much stronger and more eternal.

Snape nodded, his stiff mask slowly melting away. He could not believe that he had a daughter. He would have never thought it could be possible.

"That's weird," Violet interrupted Snape's thoughts.

"Weird? Why would it be? Is it weird that _I_ am your father?" Snape asked, his voice being so far away from his usual sneer that he reserved for people he found mediocre. It was a much gentler, much more vulnerable Severus Snape who sat there in the tiny living-room in this house where he had grown up in. The house he despites so much, but still could not let go off. There was only one person who had known Snape like that and this person was gone, forever, buried deep down in the earth. He was afraid now. Afraid that he would drive Violet out of his life like he had done with the only person who had been trying to be his friend. Maybe Violet was ashamed of him being her father, maybe she'd rather not know it and pretend that she had never heard Dumbledore say it.

"Yeah, it kind of is, isn't it? It's just so hard to understand that suddenly I have a father. And I don't know what you expect from me, what I should expect from you. It's confusing and I have a load of questions."

"Well, why don't you start with those- your questions I mean and I'll answer them as good as I can."

"Alright," Violet replied insecurely, looking down at her fingers while talking. She was not sure if she should really ask him the questions she had in mind, especially not the ones about her mother. Maybe it would pain him too much, after all he must have loved her. It took all of her courage to get the words out of her mouth, the answer she just needed. She would not be able to go on with her life, if she did not ask this. "Who was my mother?" It was such a simple questions but it meant so much more than just getting to know her name. She wanted to know how her voice sounded and what her hair looked like, she wanted to know her favorite dessert and if she liked sunsets. There was so much she wanted to know and she hoped instantly Snape would tell her. But he stiffened up and Violet could see curtains shutting in front of his eyes. He would not open up to her, not day and maybe never.

"Your mother is named Lily Evans, she died such a long time ago." And with those words Snape left, not only the room, but the house, leaving Violet all alone and by herself.


	12. Three photographs

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He had left. Just like that and left her alone in this gloomy house. In Violet's opinion he had just behaved like a child. Why did he have to run away when she asked for her mother? He must have known she would do that? He should be grown up enough to deal with her death.

Violet sat on the little sofa in the sitting room, surrounded by books and shook her head in disbelieve. When she was a kid she would sometimes imagine to meet her parents. In her imagination her dad was tall and strong, smiling at her and wrapping her up into his arms, claiming that it was the biggest mistake to leave her at the orphanage, but that he had to do some work to _protect the world from evil people_. Her mother would be strikingly beautiful, her pale skin glowing, her black hair reaching down to her waist and her green eyes glinting in the sun shining down on them. Those were childish dreams, Violet knew, but somehow deep inside she had hold on to them.

With a big sigh Violet got up and randomly got a book out of the many shelves. It was a pretty old one, pretty nonetheless, with ornaments on the cover, but no title. When she opened it up three photographs fell out of it and without thinking Violet picked them up. The first one was of two children, around ten or eleven, wearing Hogwarts school uniforms. The boy had black hair, pale skin and looked stringy. His posture was awkward, bended, exactly like Violet's. The girl next to him was really cute with her red hair and small nose. She smiled so brightly at the boy next to her that he occasionally would smile too. And then Violet noticed that the red-haired girl had wonderful almond shaped, green eyes. Could this be her mother? Was it possible or was this girl just any girl with green eyes?

Violet moved on to the next picture. It again showed only two people. A boy, about fourteen, lying under a tree reading a book. His hair as black as it had been when he was younger, but his features had become harsher. The girl, still red-haired, had fallen asleep on the boy's chest. The boy stroked through the girl's hair while reading in the book. When Violet wanted to put the picture away, she noticed something written on the back. _The best nap I've ever had. Thank you Sev!_ Sev, Sev for Severus.

The next picture seemed to be taken at graduation. A lot of people were standing in front of the big oak doors of Hogwarts. Automatically Violet searched for the black-haired boy and the red-haired girl. She found her father first, standing almost in the very back, looking not pleased at all. Everybody around him beamed happily into the camera, but he looked down the rows, with a sour grimace on his face. The red-haired girl on the other hand looked so happy and cheerful like she had in the first picture, the boy next to hair still had black hair, but it was not Severus. He looked more handsome, smiling into the camera. His right hand held the girl's left one. The picture left Violet puzzled. What had happened over the years? She knew that only one person knew the answer to that question and hopefully he'd come back soon.

He came back. He came back when the sky had gone dark and stars twinkled over Spinner's End. He looked devastated, his hair rumpled up and his eyes bloodshot. However he now seemed to be willing to talk again. He had brought some Fish and chips for the two of them and they ate it, silently at first, in the sitting room. After a while Violet considered to start the conversation, somebody had to.

"I found these pictures while you were gone," Violet mumbled, looking down to her chips.

Snape stopped eating immediately. He seemed to feel uncomfortable at the thought that somebody had been looking around in his house. "What kind of pictures?" he asked stifled.

"Three pictures," Violet said truthfully. "From when you were in school. There was a girl on them with you." Violet did not dare to ask if that girl was her mother. She did not want to put Snape off again.

"Oh, those ones," Snape said, knowing perfectly well which pictures Violet meant. There weren't a lot of pictures with him and Lily.

"Is- is she my mum?" Violet asked, a childlike gleam of hope in her eyes, forgetting that it could upset Snape.

Snape sighed and looked down to the floor, his greasy black hair falling into his face. He looked so broken, so sad and deeply hurt and it almost brought Violet to tears, seeing a man so devastated, when he was so strong in all other aspects in his life.

"She is," Snape finally said after what seemed to be an eternity of silence. "Well, she was. She was such a great woman."

Violet nodded. She felt like the moment had come to leave Snape by himself. Even though so many questions were left unanswered, it had been enough for today.

"I think I'd like to go now. May I take the pictures?" Violet asked softly. Snape just nodded, continuing to stare at the floor.

Violet took the three pictures and went to the fireplace. With a whirl of green fire she was gone.


	13. Puzzle

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Back at Hogwarts. The last place on earth Violet wanted to be. "_The safest place for you to be now."_ Her father had said.

"Not back into Slytherin though, please." She had begged and hoped her father would grant her any wish. He had granted her that wish and allowed her to be in Ravenclaw. He could not have handled her to be in Gryffindor, so close to her half-brother she did not know about yet. Sooner or later she would find out, but he wanted to push that moment as far away as possible.

She was back at Hogwarts and it was stranger than it ever had been. Draco did not talk to her anymore and she did not know if she should be glad or disappointed about that. The hardest thing was to treat Snape like he was just a teacher, because somehow she had grown fond of him. Sometimes he would invite her for tea in his office and would give her books to read. He did not talk much about her mother anymore and Violet did not push the topic, instead she told him about living in France and Beauxbatons, about how scared she had been when she nearly died at the Malfoy's. She basically told him everything, because she had no one else to talk too and he listened to her, he actually seem to enjoy listening to her. One afternoon he accidentally said that Violet's voice sounded exactly like her mother's.

Violet picked up those occasional statements and collected them. Her father's hair, her mother's eyes, her dad's bad posture, her mom's voice, Lily's courage, Severus' sense of hiding emotions. She was a puzzle and put herself together, looked for pieces everywhere so one day she would be whole. She did not know yet that one of the biggest pieces was still missing.

It happened in front of the potions dungeons. Sometimes Violet thought that this place was cursed, because it was exactly where every major fight between Gryffindor and Slytherin started, where everybody seemed nervous and dropped things. It was just not a good place to be. Violet had had potions this faithful Wednesday and like every Wednesday Gryffindor and Slytherin would have the potions lesson right after her. Maybe her bookbag was a little too heavy this day or maybe it was just her usual clumsiness that caused the trouble. When she left the dungeon some Slytherin bloke walked right into her, made her stumble and fall. The contents of her bag spread onto the floor; a glass of ink broke and stained the leather of her bag blue. She cursed under her breath when she picked all her things off the ground. Funny enough, she soon saw another hand helping her. Confused she looked up, wondering who would help _her_, the strange outcast, and when she lifted up her head she was even more surprised to see a pair of green eyes behind a pair of glasses. "Thanks Potter," she said automatically, taking a bunch of books out of his hands.

"You are welcome," he said casually. "Happened to me in my second year." He reached down once again and grabbed some loose papers. Before he handed them to Violet though he stopped, looking at them in disbelief.

"Where'd you get those pictures?" he asked, now staring at Violet.

"They are mine."

"Why is my mother on them then?" Harry wanted to know, straightening himself to his full height.

At first Violet did not realize what Harry was just saying. After all it was _her _mother on those pictures, not his. "That can't be," Violet said irritated, tearing the pictures out of Harry's hands. It were the ones she had found in Spinner's End and which Snape had given to her. "That's my mother on those pictures Potter, just for your information."

"No, I'm sure it is _my _mother. I've seen pictures of her first days of school, that is her."

"Well, I know for sure she is my-" Violet broke off and slowly her brain started working. Her mother's name was Lily Evans, not Lily Snape, they had not been married. In the picture of graduation Lily was holding another boy's hand, being far away from his father. What if it was her mother and Harry's mother alike?

"Come with me," Violet suddenly said, grabbing Harry's wrist roughly and pulling him into the empty dungeon.

"Miss Deermer, have you forgotten something?" Snape asked from the back of the room, where he was getting ingredients out of a cupboard.

"Severus, you have to explain something to me- and Potter."

Slowly, very slowly Snape walked towards them. With a flick of his wand he locked the classroom door, already knowing this conversation would be not suited for other persons' curious ears.

"What do I have to explain?" Snape asked, still hoping they did not find out.

"Explain me please why Potter recognizes his mother in this picture. _My_ mother." Violet held the photograph in front of Snape's face, her hand trembling and making the picture shake.

"Because it is," Snape replied, surrendering completely. "Both your mother. Yours Violet and of course yours Potter."

"That is impossible," Harry yelled. "What have you done to her that she would touch you."

"Don't you dare, Potter. Don't you dare and question whatever feelings Lily had for me." Snape had gotten his wand out and held it tight in his right hand, he seemed to be able to do anything with it right that moment.

While Harry looked disgusted and repulsed at his potions teacher, Violet's mind was racing. Harry was her half-brother, but he did not grew up in an orphanage. _She_ was the unwanted one, the unwanted child. Maybe her mother was as repulsed and disgusted when she found out she would have Snape's baby, as Harry was right now. And, without being able to stop it, silent tears ran down Violet's cheeks. She could have lived with a mother who died, who maybe gave her away because she was too young or did not want any kids. She could not live with a mother who had died, protecting her son, while her daughter was sitting far away in an orphanage, no one loving her.

Violet opened the door again with a flick of her wand, going slowly through the mass of students, gawking at her, and when she was in the entrance hall she started to run. Out of the castle, off the grounds, into Hogsmeade, into nothing.


	14. Too much to ask

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Somebody must have found her. Somebody really must have gone out into the cold, down into Hogsmeade and up to the Shrieking Shack. Somebody must have cared, because she was not lying in the cold, wet snow anymore. Instead she was bundled up in warm and soft blankets and a faint smell of chicken noodle soup reached her nose. The light in the room she was in was incredibly bright, brighter than any candle or torch could make a room.

Where am I?" she asked, her voice scratchy and not even knowing if there was someone close by to answer the question.

"In the hospital wing," an utterly familiar voice said.

"Dad?" Violet croaked, not being aware that she used this word for the first time, addressing Snape. She just did not think about it, it was too good to have her father sitting at her bed. But this little word followed a long silence and if Violet hadn't been incredible tired and weak, she would have been insecure, wondering if she wasn't supposed to call her father _dad_.

"Yes, Violet, it's me," Snape finally said and his voice sounded ever so softly and full of love, like it had not been sounding for many, many years.

Violet smiled a crooked smile and opened her eyes completely. Her father was sitting stiffly on a chair, dressed in his usual black robes.

"Why didn't you tell me," Violet suddenly accused her father.

Snape stayed silent, fact was that he did not know why he didn't tell her. Maybe he was afraid of the judgment, of the disgust on Potter's face, of the overshadowing guilt hunting him once again. Truth was, there were too many reasons he didn't tell her.

In the minutes filled with silence Violet dwelled in her own explanations why her father refused to tell her about a brother she had. A brother she had been living along for almost six months now. Violet was old and smart enough to guess the reasons for herself and so she just dropped it, dropped the anger she had for her father that moment and asked something else.

"What if he wants to kill me?" When she asked this question her voice was quiet, almost frightened and she looked so much younger than she actually was.

The question pulled Snape out of his own musings. "What are you talking about? Who would want to kill you?" He asked it harsher than he intended too, it just seem so silly to him that someone would want to kill his daughter.

"Voldemort," Violet whispered. "He wants to kill Harry, right? And he almost killed me once, so why would he suddenly let go of it.?"

That moment Snape had to admit that Violet could only be Lily's and his daughter, she was just too smart to be anybody else's.

"Maybe he didn't," Snape considered. He wasn't a big fan of lulling people into false security, if there was danger one should look it straight into the eye. "Maybe you are still on his list. But then again so many people are."

A knot in her throat Violet nodded, understanding what her father meant. She was just one among hundreds he wanted to finish off.

"You could go back to France and he might forget about you," Snape suggested, his eyes though pleaded her to stay where she was, in Hogwarts, with him, her father. "Maybe that would be better, you know, I have a mission, a dangerous one."

"So what," Violet said fiercely. "If there is going to be war, I'll fight." She meant those words, she had thought about them many times and now she was sure that she just couldn't go back to where she had come from. She was in it now too.

"Your mother," Snape said softly. "She would have done the same. Fight, not be a coward and hide from all the dismay. She was brave you know, so brave."

"When she was so brave why did she leave me at an orphanage then?"

"I don't think it had anything to do with you. I know she loved you Violet, she just hated me too much to keep you." Snape looked devastated now, half the man he was in the classroom.

"Why though, why did she hate you?" The questions streamed out of Violet's mouth, like she could not hold them back. Deep inside she knew he'd answer them now.

"I've done something entirely and utterly stupid and wasn't able to undo it."

"What was it? I want to know," Violet demanded, her green eyes lighting up, her body full of anticipation mixed with fear.

Snape simply closed his eyes and shook his head. He would not tell her, he could not tell her. What would she think of him? "Not today," he said quietly, hoping she would forget about it and he'd never have to tell her. But he knew that there was just too much of Lily in her that she'd forget. There was enough of Lily in her that she'd hate him for what he had done so many years ago.


	15. Best and Worst

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Violet had always fought her own battles. Since she could think it was her against the rest of the world. But she also had been able to pick and choose her battles throughout life. It were her battles to protect the little ones at the orphanage, she had stepped up for them, she had been there for them, because she could not stand in the unfairness when they were beaten up or had give their desserts to the older ones, the stronger ones. She had fought a never ending battle with herself, always hoping that one day the way she'd liked to see herself would triumph over her actual self, but it never happened and Violet grew tired of the battle. At Beauxbatons she had to learn to fight the tears and the oppressive feeling of loneliness, when once again she had no one to talk to. Throughout her life Violet had always fought her own battles. Now she did it again, she picked the battle against Voldemort, because it meant to protect the remaining shatters of her family. She chose to join the D.A. and show her brother she was a good fighter. And she knew she'd wanted to be by his side when he had to fight Voldemort. As brother and sister it sure would be easier than by himself. Loneliness, she had learned, can strengthen for a short period of time, but at the end of the day it made you weak.

The night they practiced their Patronus Violet sensed that something was wrong. Malfoy had looked at her suspiciously all day long, popping up everywhere she was and she got the feeling he wanted to warn, but couldn't. She didn't tell anyone though; everybody was way too focused and fascinated with their Patronus. Violet had tried the spell many times, but always only produced silver vapor. Today she picked not a memory, but an imagination, and she hoped it would be strong enough. It was her and Snape and Harry, all together, having dinner like an ordinary family. There was no Voldemort or hatred between Snape and Harry. They were just a little family. And it worked, from the tip of her wand erupted something huge. It was a doe, a bright shining, slender doe. Hermione, who was standing next to her, looked at in awe. "You know what, Violet," she said quietly, while watching the doe prancing through the room. "Harry's Patronus is a stag."

"It is," Violet replied in surprise, watching her doe ever so proudly. Minutes later the whole room was filled with the shiny creatures, some being so bright that they almost made one blind, looking at them, others just feebly, but still pretty.

The warmth of the light faded though, when the door was opened and a concerned looking houself entered. He trembled from head to foot and stammered something Violet could not understand, but Harry must have, because he asked horrified: "Umbridge?" The little elf nodded and everybody stared at him in disbelief. Violet felt completely paralyzed and couldn't even react to Harry yelling that they should run away.

She only moved when Harry started too, following him on his heels. She saw him fall and then Draco's smug face, he seemed very pleased with himself. When Umbridge appeared upon the scene and told Draco to catch more of them, Draco took notice of Violet. He pinned her to a wall quickly and whispered in her ear: "I'll let you go. Go hide somewhere." Violet considered his offer for a mere second, then decided she would _not_ be a coward. This was not only her battle to fight, there were too many others in it. She jerked her knee up into Draco's stomach and gladly could free herself of his grip.

"Catch me then, Draco," she said mockingly, running the way Umbridge had taken Harry. To her utter surprise, Draco was following her, being faster than she had expected him to. Before Violet could reach the stairs Draco had tackled her onto the ground. "Don't be stupid now," he said, his breath heavy. "You don't want to get yourself into that sort of trouble.

Violet wiggled underneath him, trying to find a way to get out of this uncomfortable situation. "What if I do," Violet spat. "What if I'm not the coward you are, Malfoy." Something in Draco's eyes shifted at those words, just for a moment there was insecurity in them, quickly covered up with malice. "You will be a coward one day, Violet," he whispered into her ear, being uncomfortably close to her now. He smelled of peppermint and expensive cologne. "When the Dark Lord finally gets rid of you, then you will be a coward, trust me. You will beg for death then."

Violet did not care to answer, she knew Draco well enough to know he was just copying the bigger ones, the Death Eaters, his father. He did not know what he was actually talking about. Disgusted by him being so close to her, she spat right into his face. Disgusted Draco jumped up, wiping his face clean with the sleeve of his robes. "Go play with your little friends again, Malfoy. I'll see you around."

Running down the stairs Violet felt more quick-witted and smart than she had ever had in her whole life. Maybe there was something about Draco that brought out the best and worst in her. That thought scared her, so pushed it aside. For now she needed to find her brother.


	16. Two Slytherins

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The weeks past in a flurry of sadness that Dumbledore was gone, of the Weasley's giant escape with the most magnificent firework Hogwarts had ever seen, of learning for the O.W.L.s. Violet still had tea with her father a couple of times a week, but he became more quiet every time she went seeing him.

On a wet Spring Saturday afternoon, rain pounding against the small windows, Violet broke the silence that dominated their conversations.

"Why are you so quiet Severus," she asked in her most mature voice. "You seem so absentminded all the time."

Severus slowly put his teacup back onto the table. Pressing the tips of his long fingers together, he seemed to consider what to tell his daughter.

"I have a lot on my mind with the exams going on," he merely said, looking into the cracking fire.

Violet shook her head softly in disbelieve. Maybe Severus Snape could pretend everything he wanted in front of others, but she was different, she knew that it was not the upcoming exams. It was something bigger, more important. "I don't believe you," Violet stated, glaring fiercely at her father. She hated it when somebody lied to her.

Snape closed his eyes, as if he had a painful headache. "I need you to go back to France." Snape said the words so quietly that it took several minutes for Violet to understand.

"No," Violet yelled. "I'd rather go live with the Malfoy's again than to go back to this ruddy school and the dirty orphanage. Don't do that to me, Severus."

"It's not safe her," Snape said as calmly as he managed to.

"I don't care." Violet jumped up from the chair she had been sitting in. She yelled herself in a rage now. "You told me it was good to fight. You told me I was brave and you _need_ me to go back. I can't believe what you are saying. And by the way I'm off age anyway, so I can do whatever pleases me."

"If you stay here Violet, you will hate me one day." Snape looked up at her. It was one of the rare moments, in which he wasn't wearing his mask. His eyes were glistening of tears now.

"Why would I do that?" Violet wanted to know, suddenly calm again. She couldn't understand what Snape was talking about. It didn't make sense.

"There is something I got to do, Violet. It will be my battle and I don't want you involved."

"Fine, then don't have me involved. That doesn't mean I can't stay, does it? I'm in it now too, I can't just leave, there is too much to fight for."

Snape sighed, almost twenty years ago Lily had told him the same, _there is too much to fight for_. But was there really? Was it really worth fighting? "Stay then," Snape suddenly said, his voice weary and tired. "I can't force you to go back. But promise me," Snape grabbed Violet's hands and looked into her emerald green eyes. "Promise me to believe in me, no matter what I do. There is a reason behind, do you understand?"

Violet nodded, slowly and seriously. It frightened her a little to hear her father talk like this. She wondered what he needed to do, what role he played in this upcoming war. "I promised, Dad," she said, not taking her eyes off his for several minutes.

The gray light that had filled Hogwarts castle all day was long gone when Violet left Snape's office. Instead the corridors where now illuminated in the warm, flickering light of candles and torches. Violet took the usual way to Ravenclaw tower. When she passed the tapestry of Utah the Ugly on the second floor corridor though, somebody grabbed her robes and pulled her behind it. Violet's reflexes weren't fast enough to grab her wand in time and so she found herself pinned to the wall. She considered to scream, but as soon as she had thought about it, a hand clasped over her mouth. It was hard to see in the dark, but when her eyes got adjusted to the dark, she could make out the silhouette of a boy. She probably could have only guessed who it was, had there not been the distinct smell of peppermint mixed with expensive cologne.

"There, there. See who is strolling around the castle that late at night." It certainly wasn't late, just shortly after dinner, but Violet thought that it might be late for a softie like Draco. He finally lifted his hand of her mouth as if he expected an answer.

"What do you want Draco? If you just need someone to listen to your _clever_ and _funny_ jokes why don't you pin Pansy to a wall, she'd be delighted."

"It's not much fun with her, she doesn't have your cheek," Draco replied, putting more pressure onto Violet's wrists.

"You are mixing up cheek with utter disgust." Violet tried to push Draco away from her. She was really uncomfortable having his scent so close to her nose.

"Whatever. I just wanted to make a little proposal to you."

"What is it?" Violet asked brusquely, trying to shift her legs in a position where she could jerk up her knee in _any_ part of his body.

"I've seen you've grown fond of little Potty. What if we make a deal, I'll leave him and his stupid friends alone and you get a little nicer towards me."

Just the thought of it grossed Violet out completely. Truthfully, there had been a time where she found Draco attractive, really handsome even, but his character made him the ugliest person in the world.

"I have a deal for you Malfoy," Violet said, making her voice flirty on purpose. "You leave me, Potter and his friends alone and I won't tell anyone that you jerk off looking in the mirror."

"You piece of mud," Draco mumbled, his face scrunching up in anger. He fumbled with his pockets, trying to get his wand out and that was Violet's chance. One hand free now, she pushed Draco away and ran. She could hear him curse and shout till she finally reached Ravenclaw tower. Trembling she went to bed that night, swearing she'd get her revenge on stupid Draco.


	17. Love among Brother and Sister

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Revenge was such a curious thing. One could brood over it for days, months or even years. Violet did not have time for that. As much as she wanted to come up with the perfect plan to destroy arrogant, stupid Malfoy. If she had had the time, she would have searched for his weakest point, his Achilles' heel. But Violet did not have the time and so she just pushed the bubbling anger out of her head and concentrated on seemingly more important things. Like the upcoming O.W.L.'s, truthfully not at all important to her, but she wanted to make her father proud and she knew it would fill him with pride if she'd get some good grades. Even more important than her father was her brother at the moment. Violet tried, she really tried to form a relationship with him. And Harry tried too, he tried to be reasonable, to look over the fact that Violet was a product of his mother betraying his dad with Severus Snape. When he talked to Violet though, there was always a hint of disgust in his green eyes, always an undertone of accusation in his voice. It annoyed Violet, it annoyed her so much that Harry couldn't look past her parents, couldn't see that she was a part of something both of them missed; both of them had probably wished for in a long time, they _could_ be a family if they really wanted.

Harry did not seem to want it. He stiffened when she came close to him, he searched frantically for somebody to talk too when she was nearby. It was childish of him and very frustrating for Violet. One sunny afternoon, which every fifth year had to spent inside the castle, studying, Violet was lucky though. Or not so lucky at all. She met Harry by himself, entirely by himself in the library. He sat admits a dozen of books, but he did not really read any of them. He merely looked at nothing, probably daydreaming. The very moment Violet saw him she decided it was time for a brother-sister-conversation, so she randomly grabbed a book of the closest shelf and placed herself next to Harry, ever so casually.

"Hey Harry," she said, trying to sound cheerful, but her voice was quivering too much to even have the slightest hint of cheerfulness in it.

"Violet," Harry replied disinterested. "What's up?" He didn't even look at her when he talked to her. That was certainly not a good start for this conversation.

"Potter," Violet put more distance in her voice now. "Why are you behaving like a jerk around me?"

Harry spun around at those words, his eyes a mix of being caught red-handed and complete carelessness about it. Violet had never seen such a curious expression in somebody's eyes. "I'm not," Harry replied, looking away from Violet.

"Yes you are," Violet persisted. "And I know why!"

"Why are you bothering then to ask me, when you already know?" Harry asked snippy and shut one of the books lying in front of him. Violet knew immediately that Harry wanted to do nothing but leave the library in an instant.

"Because I actually care about you," Violet stated fiercely.

"Oh, yeah," Harry scoffed. "You care so much, don't you? I'll give you a hint, I don't want to be cared about by you." Harry stuffed some parchment and an ink pot in his bag and started to just walk away. But Violet jumped up faster than Harry had expected her too and so he bumped right into her.

"It's not funny, don't you get it Violet-or shall I call you Snape?!"

"You know that's not funny either," Violet said, pushing Harry back into his chair. She was glad that he wasn't particularly muscular. "Why do you hate me, Potter? Simply for the fact that our mother wasn't the golden angel with a halo everybody thinks she was? Or is there more too it?" Violet almost whispered now, bending down to Harry. The sneer in Violet's voice, brought up so much anger in Harry, it was the sneer he had had to endure for five years now, Snape's sneer. Jumping up, Harry gripped onto the front of Violet's robes and pushed her into one of the shelves with a force Violet had never thought possible of a boy with Harry's statue. A few books fell from the upper rows, right onto Harry's and Violet's heads, but neither of them cared. They stared at each other, two pairs of brilliantly green eyes, both filled with fury. "Great Potter, doing a good job of defending your mother. But let me tell you something, deep inside she was a selfish girl. Maybe she died for you in the middle of the night, but at daylight she wouldn't have." Violet's voice was even quieter now than Harry's agitated breath.

"Maybe she didn't love you enough to care for you," Harry whispered back, still holding Violet's robes firmly in his hands, so she was lifted half an inch off the ground. "Well, actually, scratch the _maybe_."

Violet wrestled herself free of Harry's grip now and when her feet finally touched the ground again, she realized how stupid they were behaving, fighting like this, almost like brother and sister.

"Okay, Harry, maybe she was a hero for you, not for me though. There are no heroes in my sky, I guess."

"Is that a trick? You are just giving in like that?" Harry asked confused.

Violet nodded. She knew that fighting would not help her to get what she wanted. "I'm just so-," Violet sobbed, trying to swallow the tears. "Jealous. I mean she died for you; she did everything to protect you. And me she just left at an orphanage, as far away as possible from her happy marriage and her little family. I have less than nothing from her."

And suddenly Harry's mood shifted too. Why would they fight? Even if there were enough reasons to hate each other, there were so much more to be there for the other, to support each other. And so Harry hugged his sister tightly, she was after all, a part of his family. "You know I'm jealous too," Harry admitted, speaking into Violet's silky, black hair. "You have a father left, alright he's not that popular among students, but at least you have someone in the wizard world, who can help you when you have a problem, who is always there for you."

And Violet just nodded, standing completely still, enjoying the hug. It was so good to finally get some love, having something close to a family. She had been parched for seventeen years and now could finally drink some love.


	18. Star sprinkled Sky

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It was not what she had thought it would be. But then again it never was like you expected it to be. Things never turned out the way they should. And as unbelievably perfect and satisfying it had been to be in Harry's arms, his brother's arm for this one swift moment in the library, Violet realized that being the sister of the Boy-Who-Lived wasn't easy. All her life she had been in the background, almost fading in shadows of other people, always unnoticeable. Now that the rumors were spreading, everybody noticed it and it made Violet insecure to a point where the looks and whispers made her sick to her stomach. She wished so desperately to hide in the dark and never go among the other students. Instead she hid behind the curtain of black hair and wrapped herself in silence. The rumors did not stop though, everybody whispered, everybody speculated about her. Who the whole school had found out she was Harry Potter's sister was beyond Violet's imagination. Harry did not seem to mind all the trouble being made about him, he just ignored it, shrugged it off. On a Saturday morning, spent with studying in the library, Violet asked Harry's friend Hermione, why Harry could remain so calm about it all.

"He is pretty much used to it. They always talk, since he first entered the school they talked and it's just getting worse every year. So, he doesn't care anymore." Hermione went back to studying after this rashly whispered answer and it left Violet wondering how _she_ would feel if she was in Harry's position, how it would feel if everybody admired you and loathed you at the same time. She wondered how horrible it must feel to be the red spot in a pool of black.

It was no wonder that in those troubled times Violet faced another encounter with Draco. The problems always came, when there were enough already. But it was nothing like the last time the two had met, nothing at all and when Violet thought about it afterwards she found the first time less scary than the second.

It was a very warm spring night, much warmer than it should be that far up north. Violet could not fall asleep that night, something troubled her, and so she threw the blue covers off and got up to look out the window. She looked outside into the brilliantly night-sky, dark-blue and smooth, sprinkled with thousands of glistening stars. Violet sighed and thought about how up there, or somewhere, was her mother and wondered if she would be looking down to her, maybe protecting her in the night. But she had to shove the thought aside, because every time she saw her mother, she just saw her as a guardian angel for Harry, not for herself. _No heroes in my sky_, Violet said to herself, a phrase she always told herself, to be reminded that she could only put trust and faith in herself. Violet mused a long time about how she had been watching the sky in France, either from the shabby room in the orphanage or from Beauxbatons. It was so hard to believe that back then she had looked at the same night-sky, scheming plans about how she'd escape out of her misery, get a job, travel to big cities. It had been reckless, childish and fantastic plans and Violet had given them up long before she had turned seventeen. Life wasn't a fairytale, not even when you were a witch.

The air was so clear that night, not a tiny sign of the unavoidable fog, that Violet could almost see everything going on down on the grounds. Hagrid was still awake, the windows of his hut illuminated. Something was stirring at the edge of the Forbidden Forest and from far away came a soft, musical cry. And then something was strolling around on the grounds that should not be there at that time of the day. It was a student, Violet was sure about it, but not just any student. His hair was so blond it shone clearly through the darkness, white-blond. Only Draco's hair looked like that. Without thinking, without even knowing what she was doing, Violet got dressed and left the dormitory, heading out of the castle.

Only a small breeze ruffled through Violet's hair when she had sneaked out of the castle, it wasn't nearly enough to make her shiver. The white-blond hair was now at the big oak tree close to the edge of the lake. Violet was there quicker than she had expected, gliding towards Draco as if she was dreaming.

"What brings you out so late?" Violet wanted to know, looking down at the sitting Draco. He looked up slowly, his eyes bloodshot, his face full of red, hectic spots. Violet had never seen Draco less flawless.

"Same question for you," he responded faintly. He sounded incredibly tired.

"You don't look good," Violet observed, sitting down in the damp grass next to him. She was frantically searching for the grudge she had felt all those weeks for him but it was gone at once.

"Thanks for the compliment," Draco replied, the sarcasm in his voice absolutely dull.

"So, what's the matter? A Malfoy doesn't look bad without a reason." Violet tried to keep her voice casual, but she was already in too deep. She certainly wouldn't leave him without knowing why he looked as if he had cried. May he be the complete idiot that he actually was, she still cared about him, in a gross, obsessive way.

"As if you care," Draco scoffed, not even looking at Violet. The moon shone down on both of them and transformed Draco's pale skin into an eerie bluish color. Violet wondered if her skin tone was the same as his now.

"Well, I actually do care," Violet said simply, no undertones in her voice. She really _meant_ it.

Draco just shook his head and a few strands of hair fell into his face. He looked more imperfect every minute. "Why would you care about a jerk like me?" Draco asked.

"For no particular reason. You are an interesting person, isn't that a good enough reason?"

"I won't tell you Violet, but thanks anyway." Draco got up, tapping non-existing dirt of his robes.

"Let me guess then," Violet said louder than necessary.

"Fine, guess then." Draco turned back around but did not sit down again. He leaned against the trunk of the oak tree.

"It's your family right? Well, not exactly your family but the fear you have about losing them, about it being ripped apart by Voldemort. You are afraid, not only that your mum or dad could get into trouble, but also by the quests lying ahead of you. You know that you will need to join him or you'll disgrace your family. You are too frightened though, you don't even want to be close to Lord Voldemort, he disgusts you. And you don't want to fight, not for the beliefs of anyone." The words came out of Violet's mouth before she could even think about them. It was as if she had just spoken out aloud what somebody else was thinking. She had always had the feeling that it was far too easy for her to sense other people's emotions. Violet got up now, clumsy as always, but Draco wouldn't have noticed anyway, his eyes were full of tears again. "How do you know?" he asked, looking into Violet's eyes.

"Because I care," was her soft answer.

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**A/N: Some Draco and Violet closure in this chapter. I hope I did not get Draco too out of character, please tell me what you think.**


	19. Pink,Black and Orange

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Violet had hardly thought about death in her life. Maybe sometime after the attack in Malfoy Manor, but that was it. Life was just too hard to deal with, to think about death. In all her life Violet had thought her parents were dead, so having a dead mother wasn't hard on her anymore. She pretty much gained a father and not lost her mother when she found out about her parents, so that was a good think. Violet really had not thought much about death in her life.

It changed though, it certainly changed. Being the sister of the Boy-Who-Lived probably meant to think about death, ironic somehow, but true. When Violet was on Harry's side in the Department of Mysteries she was sure one of them would die. Maybe not Harry, but Hermione or Ron or the Luna Girl, maybe even her. The thought was with her all the time, gladly shadowed by much stronger thoughts and feelings. When they started fighting the Death Eaters Violet had only one target, blind with fury she wanted nothing more in this world to bring Lucius Malfoy down. She wanted to attack him, put the most devilish curses on him she knew. She wanted to hurt him as much as possible. Not only because of what he was but because what he had made of his son. Violet imagined that Draco could be decent, really decent and not evil, if only his father wasn't such an arrogant, idiotic man. If only he wouldn't have fed Draco with his believes and ideals. Draco could be decent and Violet would be able to love him that way. But because Draco was who he was, she attacked Lucius without fear, without even thinking about it properly. She knew she was not there to fight for her own interest, but she just couldn't help it. This would be _her_ battle too. For one brief moment Violet did not pay attention and Lucius Malfoy had grabbed her, his wand poking into Violet's hip.

"Look who we have here. Potter's big sister. What a pleasure it would be to finish you off, what an _honor_." His voice was full of sneer, the same sneer his son would use and his breath smelled too strong of peppermint for Violet to not be reminded of Draco.

"How many more innocent lives do you want to finish off, Malfoy? You already killed your son, so go ahead kill me too." Violet was absolutely sure that her words would have no effect at all. She tried to touch her wand with one finger, maybe it would suffice to cast a spell helping her out of her miserable situation. But somehow Malfoy's grip seemed to loosen and his body backed away.

"Are you trying to talk your way out of the certain death you'll soon encounter?"

"No, I was merely using the convenient situation to tell you, that you messed your son up. I think, after having talked to him about it, that he hates you deeply from his heart." Violet wondered how she managed to stay so extremely calm and cool. Her voice had not the slightest sign of a quiver, her breath went more evenly than it did when she ran up the stairs in Hogwarts. Maybe it was the power of Violet's words, maybe it was the yelling and all the spells around them, whatever it was Malfoy decided to let go of Violet and care about somebody more important. For a couple of minutes Violet's blood ran through her veins so fast that Violet thought she could feel it rushing through her body, making sure she was alive. And then death hit her, not her literally, but it hit her, when she saw that a spell hit Harry's godfather. She knew what he meant to Harry, knew that he was the only one alive coming close to a father figure for her brother. And she was probably more in shock than Harry when she saw Sirius falling through the veil, gone forever. And suddenly she did not fight her battle anymore, but really and truly with all her heart, she fought the battle of the good.

Later, when it was all over, when it was nothing more than bruises and scrapes on their skin and dark memories in their mind, she went to find Harry. It was the last day of the term and Violet knew that Harry had had a lot on his mind, too much that he needed to be bothered by his older sister. But today she went to find him and after a while of searching she found him in a deserted classroom, staring out of the window onto the Quidditch patch.

"I've never seen you play," Violet said casually, standing next to Harry and looking into the same direction he was. "I heard you are good."

Harry nodded his head slowly. "It's my passion," he said, seemingly glad she did not start the conversation with his grief about Sirius' death. "Flying is amazing. It's the only thing I'm good in, I guess."

"You are good in so much more. Things no one can measure. I envy you about them."

"You almost sound like Professor Dumbledore."

"Well, then he must be right, whatever he is saying you are good in."

"I wished I would have been good enough to save Sirius life." The words came suddenly, unprepared for both of them. Harry seemed as surprised about saying them, as Violet was about hearing them. This very moment Violet knew she could say so many things, soothing things, telling him that it wasn't his fault. She knew he had heard it all before. So she said the only honest thing there was to say. "It's not fair."

Harry looked at her in surprise, he certainly didn't expect that. "Of course it's not fair. Life is rarely fair, especially when it comes to my life." A wry smile formed around his lips. "I'm glad you understand me, Violet."

"I do?" Violet asked, not expecting to hear something like that.

"You actually do." Harry looked out of the window for some minutes. The silence between them wasn't awkward at all. It was the kind of silence that could only exist between two people who were emotionally very close to each other. "When are you leaving?" Harry suddenly asked.

"Tomorrow, like all of you." Violet answered, confused by the questions.

"But you won't be coming back?" He asked irritated.

"Yes I will. Why shouldn't I?"

"Well, there is going to be war here. And you are certainly not on the list of those Voldemort will spare."

"So? I don't care. I'm into deep, way deeper than anyone could think; it is my battle now too."

"Unbelievable that you don't shy away," Harry admitted admiringly.

"You don't do it either. You are fighting too and no one thinks that is weird. He killed _our_ mother, Harry. He is evil and I want him dead."

"So do I," Harry said, more to himself than to Violet.

"Beautiful sunset tonight, isn't it?" Violet suddenly asked, looking at the pink and orange sky outside. It looked incredibly peaceful, as if the world wasn't going to be shaken by the evil. Everything would be fine, even if it was just as long the sky was stained in pink and orange.

"It sure is!"

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**A/N: Thinking about wrapping this up soon, so next chapter will probably be the last. But I'm also considering a sequel. Let me know what you think about that.**


	20. Stolen

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize!**

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A rainy night in July. It was already getting dark outside, but Violet still stared out of the dirty window which overlooked Diagon Alley. She had never known it before, but it certainly had not always been like that. Most of the shops were closed, it looked pretty much deserted. Only the violently colored windows of the Weasley's joke shop added a little bit of color. The rain was pondering harder and harder against the window, swallowing the last light of the day. With a sigh Violet got up and decided to brush through her wet hair, before she went to bed. If she didn't it would surely be a tangled mess in the morning. While she brushed out her dripping wet hair, drowning the floor in droplets of water, smelling like a cheap tropical shampoo, she thought about so many things, mainly all at once. Not one day had passed without her mind wandering off to her father, her brother and occasionally to Draco, but she would push _those_ thoughts aside, they were not allowed in her head.

She would leave for the Burrow as soon as she got word from Dumbledore. He had told her so many times before she left Hogwarts to be careful, not to write to anybody, neither Harry nor Snape. It was too dangerous right now. For a minute or two Violet stared into the mirror, looking into her own green eyes, hoping she was doing the right thing staying here in troubled England. But the answer was in her already, she would never be able to leave this behind, no matter how hard the times would going to be. Here was her home, her family and there was just so much she still needed to do. She wanted to visit her mother's grave, maybe with Harry together. She wanted to enjoy being at Hogwarts and make an attempt to have some friends, real friends. There was one more thing she wanted to do, but she knew it was impossible.

A sudden, quiet knock interrupted her thoughts. Violet wondered who it could be, probably just Tom, the bartender bringing her some soup and bread, as she had missed supper. It certainly wasn't Tom. Robes drenched, hair dripping wet a strained looking Draco Malfoy stood in front of her door.

"What are you doing here?" Violet asked shocked, because it was as if her very thoughts had wished him in front of her door. Well, her thoughts would have probably wished him here looking different. He looked worse than the night they had talked on the Hogwarts grounds. His skin wasn't pale, but an ashy grey. Deep blue and purple circles under his bloodshot eyes. He looked as if the distress of the whole world was lying upon him.

"I wanted to say good-bye to you." His voice was weak and scratchy.

"Why though? You are coming back to Hogwarts in September, won't you?" Violet hated how desperate she sounded. Draco really disabled her in so many ways.

"Yes I will," Draco said quietly, staring at something non-existent on the floor.

"Why are you saying good-bye then?" Violet asked once more.

"Because it is my _last_ chance to look into your eyes and say an honest and truthful . After tonight I won't be able to do it anymore."

Violet eyes filled with tears, she didn't exactly know what Draco was talking about, but it did not sound good at all.

"Then stay here with me. Whatever should be happening, it doesn't have to."

Draco took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling now. It seemed like he was avoiding looking into her face very carefully. Maybe looking into her face was too tempting. "I can't Violet, I just can't." He was on the verge of tears now too. "Let me just tell you, after tonight I'll be the bad guy, _forever_." The tone in his voice made Violet tremble inside. There had never been a person she wanted to save so desperately. There had never been a single person she could so easily look through. It had to mean something that she was able to feel his emotion, it just could not be on accident.

Before Violet could say another word though, before she could beg him to stay and not do what he was about to do, Draco had closed the distance between them. He was so awfully close now that Violet could see every speck of blue in his eyes, which always seemed to be grey from the distance. Faster than she could think, Violet felt Draco's chapped lips on her, ever so gentle. It wasn't perfect for a first kiss, it was all wrong. The wrong place, the wrong time and certainly the wrong person. Nothing in her life had ever felt so right, despite all the wrongs. After those one blissful minute, he left. He just left without another word. Seventeen years and eleven months Violet had searched for puzzle pieces and now that she had finally made herself whole again, Draco had just taken the most important piece of her puzzle away. Her heart.

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**A/N: So this is the final chapter. However I am going to write a sequel, there is just so much more to tell. If you have any suggestions or wishes for it, just tell me in the review section or drop me a PM. **

**Please don't forget to let me tell you what you think about the ending and the story over all.**

**I hoped all my readers enjoyed this story. I want to thank basically everyone who read this story, but especially the ones who took the time to review!  
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